Resident Evil: Necropolis
by AceRayer
Summary: R for violence and language. A mysterious new survivor emerges, in the place where the S.T.A.R.S. had thought to be safe.
1. Rude Awakenings

Josh Murphy slowly came back to the world of the conscious. He instinctively gauged his surroundings, and soon came to the obvious conclusion that he was still in his Jeep. Reflexively, he reached down towards his hip, and was pleased to find that he was still wearing his Glock 17 handgun. Another quick search of his S.T.A.R.S uniform revealed that he was also still carrying all three clips for the gun, making a grand total of 68 rounds. The self-check also revealed he was still carrying his combat knife. He allowed himself a smile despite his pounding headache; at least he was still armed. Something he couldn't figure out, however, was how he had come to crash his Jeep. It was obvious that he had crashed, the windshield in front of him was broken, spidery lines traveling across nearly the entire surface of the glass, but he couldn't remember for the life of him how he'd gotten there. Then, it hit him.  
  
Josh, along with three other members of the St. Louis branch of the Special Tactics And Rescue Squad, S.T.A.R.S. for short, had been traveling down a strangely deserted section of highway towards Lambert Airport, when they heard the noise. A loud, hissing noise, and then they saw the missile. The smoke trail, from what Josh could see from his Jeep, seemed to have come from off the side of the road somewhere, but that observation was quickly cut short by the missile's impact. The projectile had hit the road just between the two cars, and that was when Josh blacked out.  
  
Josh was shocked from his flashback by a dull thumping noise, coming from outside the car. He couldn't see shit, but he turned towards the noise anyway, hearing it distinctly from the passenger side door. The thumping continued and eventually started rising in both frequency and volume, in time with Josh's own madly beating heart. Josh reached back in the seat, remembering that there was a flashlight among the cargo he was carrying, and blindly groped for the metal object. He soon found it, nestled under a crate of medical supplies, and brought the flashlight up to face the still thumping window. He flicked the light on, instantly pointing his pistol towards the center of the beam of light as it came on. However, he was completely unprepared for the sight that met his eyes as the light fell on the thing that was generating the thumping sound.  
  
It was human, or at least, had once been. The thing's hair was long and scraggly, as though it hadn't been washed in some time. But that was hardly the oddest thing about it. The man's flesh had apparently partly rotted off, one entire cheek missing all its skin, muscle showing under the monster's face. The eyes were blank white, and more skin was missing from the ghoul's hands, which were pounding rapidly, hungrily, against Josh's car window. Josh's mind instantly flashed to the conversation he had had with his old buddy from the Air Force, Chris Redfield. Chris had said something about a virus, being made by the Umbrella Pharmaceutical Corporation of all things, which turned people into some sort of zombies. At the time, I thought he was crazy, Josh thought, but I suppose I can count that out now, can't I? The thing grabbing at his window certainly fit the mental image that Chris' phone call had summoned, and there was no reason to suspect Chris was lying about Umbrella. The zombie's hand smashed hard against the window of Josh's Jeep, and as it hit, a thin line broke out from the window. Zombies may not be smart, Josh thought, but they sure are determined. He grasped backwards at the driver side door handle, found it, and twisted madly, rewarded with a click as the door opened, and then bitter disappointment as the door hit something, probably a tree branch, preventing it from opening. Josh's eyes widened as he realized what trouble that put him in. Guess that meant he had no choice but to shoot his way out. Josh had seen enough crappy old zombie movies to guess that shooting it in the head was probably the best way to kill almost ANYTHING undead. Grasping that assumption, Josh raised the barrel of his Glock up to the window, sighting carefully in on the center of the zombie's skull. It wasn't a hard shot at all, but Josh took his time sighting it up, wanting to waste as little ammo as possible. Centering the sights of his pistol dead center between the zombie's eyes, Josh gave it a cocky smirk.  
  
"Say goodbye, asshole," Josh said, and squeezed the trigger. The nine-millimeter bullet flew forward, straight through the window of his Jeep, and hit, dead between the creature's dead eyes. Blood spurted out from the head wound, spraying the window red, and the zombie fell over, not even having time to emit a dying moan before all brain function ceased. Josh smiled grimly and kicked at the passenger side door, knocking it loose from the already damaged Jeep without bothering to try opening it. Josh made his way out from the destroyed Jeep, scrambling madly for where he assumed the road was, blindly hoping that, wherever they were, his comrades were alright. 


	2. Deserted Highway

David Garcia slammed the butt of his M4 carbine down onto the face of the rotting creature, feeling the hideous thing's skull give way under the weight of his gun. David, along with S.T.A.R.S. team leader Dan Barnes and David's comrade Nick Young, had just somehow managed to fight off five of the walking corpses that ambled out from the woods that lined one side of the road just after they had exited their Jeep. Whoever had shot that rocket at them had either been extremely accurate, hitting the road between them to make sure they both crashed, or a poor shot, having intended to hit one or both of the vehicles. From the size of the crater left in the road, the missile had been anti-tank at the least. David was no explosives specialist, that was Nick's job, but he guessed that the shooter definitely meant business. David heard the familiar sound of gunfire from behind him, the sound of Dan's Desert Eagle claiming yet another victim, and turned around to face the rest of the St. Louis S.T.A.R.S.  
  
"That's the last of them," Dan said, ejecting the empty clip from his .50 caliber weapon. It had taken the team a while to figure out that the moaning, stumbling figures that came out of the woods were not, in fact, humans. Their first hint was when they noticed the rotting flesh, and the clincher came when the first one refused to go down after Dan had shot it three times in the chest with his high-caliber pistol. "Okay, guys, time for a status check, sound off."  
  
"I'm fine," David said, wiping the blood off of his orange S.T.A.R.S. issue vest with one black-gloved hand. His black under-shirt was splattered with some blood too, but none of it was his, nor was the blood that speckled his camouflage pants or black boots, "I've still got four clips for my M4, plus about half left in this one, and the five clips for my Beretta, so I'm good on ammo," David finished, fitting his S.T.A.R.S issue black ski cap on his head. It was getting pretty cold.  
  
"I'm good too," Nick said, wiping the dirt off of his blue armor-like S.T.A.R.S demolition vest that he wore over his white shirt and blue pants, and paused to adjust his black baseball-style cap, "I've got all of twenty grenades here," Nick patted the duffel bag at his shoulder, "plus all my Beretta ammo, that's five clips there."  
  
"Alright," Dan once more checked the radio headset for any transmissions from Josh, but caught nothing but static, "I've still got ten clips for my Desert Eagle as well, so we're all good on ammo, assuming we don't meet up with some freakish un-killable beast with a rocket launcher or something," Dan noticed that the joke only got slight smiles; after what just happened, they weren't willing to count out the possibility that some sort of monster had been the one to fire on their Jeeps, "Alright, priority one is finding Josh, priority two is getting the hell to that plane our mysterious benefactor mentioned."  
  
"You mean Trent, right Dan?" Nick asked. The enigmatic Trent, who had phoned the St. Louis S.T.A.R.S. office and prompted their drive out to the airport, had provided information on a virus that may have been leaked in the area, as well as struck a negative chord in Nick. Nick didn't like people who held information back, and he had gotten the distinct impression that Trent was doing just that.  
  
"Yeah, I mean Trent. I know you have your misgivings, but right now, we don't have much of a choice, do we now?" Dan said, allowing a trace of annoyance to creep into his voice. Trent might have set them up, but then again, his plane might be the only way out of the grasp of those things, whatever they were.  
  
"No, sir, I guess not."  
  
"Good," Dan said, moving around to the side of the Jeep, "Now, let's get to finding Josh first off." He quickly opened up the door and reached inside, soon pulling out a PSG-1 rifle and strapping it to the custom rifle holster on his back. Don't know if I'll ever get the chance to use this thing, he thought, but if I do, well, like they always say, better safe than sorry. He always kept four extra clips for the rifle, and even now they were strapped in to his waist.  
  
"So, what's the plan, boss?" David asked, propping his M4 up on one shoulder.  
  
"We search for Josh. His Jeep obviously didn't go off on this side of the road, since we'd be able to see it, so he must have rolled into the woods over there," Dan pulled back the top portion of his Desert Eagle, readying the deadly handgun for combat, "We move out, delta formation, towards the woods, take out anything that gets in our way, but don't waste ammo needlessly, got it?" Before Dan's team could nod their assent, the relative silence of the deserted highway was broken by the sounds of gunfire. Dan instantly recognized the weapon in question as a pistol, even from the single shot. It wasn't the sharp crack of a rifle, and wasn't the low boom of a shotgun. The silence returned for a minute, but was then broken, the sounds of handgun fire repeating over and over, easily more than ten shots fired from the darkness.  
  
"Whelp," Nick said, "Guess we found Josh." 


	3. Reunion

Chapter 3: Reunion  
  
As the S.T.A.R.S. team made their way across the darkened street, their weapons at the ready, they were met by yet another surprise in a night filled with them. A dark shape hurled its way out from the dense covering of trees, gasping loudly. The form stumbled its way towards them, both of its hands held out in front of it, advancing towards them. In the dim light, nobody could see any detail of the figure, but from the way it walked, coupled with that gasping noise, they could already tell, at least generally, what it looked like. Dan, taking point, darted his Desert Eagle pistol towards the figure, drawing a bead on its head. "Stay back guys, I got this one," he yelled as his sights found their mark on the center of the zombie's skull. At that exact moment, the creature did something completely and totally unexpected. "GODDAMMIT, DON'T SHOOT ME!" it yelled, both of its arms coming up across its face to ward off the expected blow. Dan lowered his gun, as shocked as the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. team was. They'd never heard a zombie talk before. However, as was quickly revealed, they were slightly off with their original assessment. "Jesus CHRIST, Dan, you want to blow my head off, give me some god damn WARNING first, jackass!" The voice, not to mention frequent profanity, could only have really come from the S.T.A.R.S. team's newest (by default, he'd been in the team for over three years, but that was still shorter than the rest) member, Josh. The second thing that gave it away was the black S.T.A.R.S. vest over the blue undershirt, and standard issue forest camouflage pants, Josh's preferred uniform. "Josh. Man, are we glad to see you," Dan said, letting his arms relax to his sides. "Yeah," David said with a smirk. "We figured if anyone would have turned into zombie-chow first, it'd be you." "Sure, sure, David, like you guys weren't running around here looking for me and my mad Glock skills," Josh grinned, glad to see that at least everyone else was still sane. Well, as sane as they had been anyway. Dan motioned the newly reunited group over to the wrecked S.T.A.R.S. jeep sitting overturned on the side of the road. The four gathered around it, and Josh took the opportunity to slump back against the vehicle and catch his breath. "Okay Josh, fill us in, what's your situation?" Dan asked, once they'd given Josh enough time to recover. "Well. I've got three clips total: that gives me. 51 bullets, and I've got my knife. Though, I suppose the knife won't be much help," Josh checked over his Glock 17 as he spoke, chambering the next round of a fresh clip into the weapon, the previous clip laying empty at his feet. Somewhere off in the distance, lightning struck illuminating the area in a flash. A storm was gathering somewhere, and it probably wouldn't be long until it was on them. "No, somehow I doubt that," Nick said, his drum-magazine grenade launcher propped up on his shoulder. "Heck, Dan plugged one with three fifty cal shots, right in the chest, and it didn't go down." "Really? Jeeze, Dan, what are you, slipping, Mr. Sniper God, only hitting 'em in the chest? Heck, even I shot my first one in the face, and I'm the rookie." Josh's smart-ass remark was suddenly punctuated by the sound of something heavy impacting the ground behind the jeep. "Que le fuck?" David said, peering around the side of the wrecked car. When the source of the noise entered his vision however, his eyes were snapped wide open with shock. "Holy shit!" Nick and the other three S.T.A.R.S. looked out from behind the jeep and saw what had scared the M4 wielding agent so bad. No more than three yards behind the car stood a massive figure, clad in a dark black trenchcoat, its empty eyes burning white in the darkness of the sky behind it. The form was easily eight feet tall, though its size was hardly the most imposing feature. A second flash of lightning tore through the sky, and this time the four of them saw for the first time, the horror that would haunt them all from that moment onward. Ghastly, mutant flesh covered its face, torn by a massive wound, reaching up from the left cheek, all the way up through the monster's left eye, removing it completely. Heavy surgical staples held the gash closed, and no blood leaked from it, though it seemed deep. The hideous creature had no mouth, rather a open, hideous grin was plastered permanently on its reconstructed face, its teeth showing to be far too large, and far too pointed. On its shoulder sat a long cylinder, its shape instantly recognizable to the S.T.A.R.S., who had all seen it before, in movies and training handbooks. The tube resting on the monstrous figure's shoulder was an anti-tank Surface-to-Surface missile launcher, and the open end was pointed right at the four shocked agents, as the creature which David thought from the moment he saw it could only have come from hell uttered a single word, its voice rough as grinding concrete, "S.T.A.R.S." 


	4. Flight and Planning

The three S.T.A.R.S. members could only stare at the hideous creature which the lightning and David's startled cry had revealed. Dan eventually found the ability to speak his voice quiet and shocked in tone.  
  
"Holy shit... Did that thing just say "S.T.A.R.S?" Dan asked, his eyes wide, unable to tear away from the scene before him.  
  
Josh then spoke, his voice and eyes in a much similar condition to Dan's. "Yes... yes it did, Dan." No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the massive beast in front of them let out an inhuman growl, and Josh saw the thing's hand tighten around the trigger for the rocket launcher. The next few seconds, for all four of the S.T.A.R.S members, were blurs. One of them yelled to run, nobody could ever seem to figure out which, and none cared. They responded quickly, bolting as fast as their legs could carry them away from the monster. They didn't get far, however, before they heard the same hissing, loud noise that had disrupted their drive earlier in the evening.  
  
"GET DOWN!" David yelled, diving for the ground, which was nothing but rough asphalt. Luckily, this act saved his life, as the rocket had been aimed for him. As it was, the antitank projectile flew over the prone S.T.A.R.S member, only to detonate somewhere off in the forest. David got up and continued to run, easily catching up with the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. team. Their target for the run was a hill, off to the left of the road. None of them noticed that the massive creature with the gun had never moved to follow them, and none really thought to look.  
  
All four of them managed to make it over the hill, gasping and out of breath as they were. Dan peeked over the edge, and was surprised by what he saw.  
  
"Guys... creepy boy over there didn't follow us." He said, blinking as he tried to figure this new information out.  
  
"Yeah? Well, good riddance, I say," David rolled his eyes as he spoke, panting. "That thing nearly blew my damn HEAD off, if you don't remember."  
  
"Might've done you some good, Garcia," Nick joked, cracking a small grin. Nobody else thought it was funny.  
  
The team sat there for several minutes, catching their breath. While they waited, Josh told them all about his escape from the van.  
  
"Listen, Josh, this is very interesting and all, but... well, you're the so- called expert here, Mr. Friend Of Redfield, so what the hell was that?" David asked. David seemed the most shaken up about the attack, mostly probably because of the fact that the rocket had been aimed specifically at HIM.  
  
"Well... Chris only mentioned one thing about that. Something he said Jill told him about. He called it Nemesis, but didn't really go beyond that."  
  
"Oh," Dan spoke up, after ensuring that they were clear for the moment, "That's nice. So we have no way to KILL this thing, is that about the size of it?"  
  
"Um. Yes." Josh looked down, a bit sheepishly, as though disappointed in his inability to get the information.  
  
"Well, that's alright," Nick said, "Enough explosives and we can kill anythi-" The S.T.A.R.S operative was cut off, by the appearance of a dark, canine shape, leaping from the woods at the top of the hill. "Holy hell, what is that?" Nick's eyes went wide with fear, and he stumbled back a few steps."  
  
"Zombie dog!" Josh yelled, just a half-second before the dog leapt up towards Nick. The demolition expert barely had the time to step back and throw up an arm before he felt the hot, humid breath of the beast on his throat. That just about did it for the other S.T.A.R.S operatives. At the same time, all three stopped, dropped down to one knee, and brought their weapons to bear. The sound of gunfire was loud, but brief. Each operative fired off three shots, and all nine of them impacted the dog's chest. Before Nick's eyes, the once-living hound erupted in blood. The animal's ribcage withered under the fire, and the dog was literally thrown backwards, as it was in midair at the time the S.T.A.R.S fired. With a thud, and a liquid-sounding splat, the dog hit the ground, dead.  
  
"Great," David said, completely unattached to what had just occurred. "So we've got zombies, zombie dogs, and a big mother fucker with a rocket launcher, who apparently hates the S.T.A.R.S. What NOW, o' fearless leader?" David turned to Dan, who thought for a moment before responding.  
  
"We look for shelter. We need somewhere to hide and to regroup. I'll split us into two teams, David and Nick, you're the first. Josh and I'll be the second. You guys head West, and we'll check out the East. We'll need to look for somewhere we can easily defend, but has an escape route. We don't want to get cornered, but we want to be able to be relatively safe. Report over there," Dan indicated a nearby overpass, a road that ran East to West, directly across from their current road. "We'll be under that overpass in roughly..." Dan checked his watch, and did a few mental calculations. "Forty minutes. That's four-oh minutes folks. Good luck, and keep safe. Any trouble, or if you find something that we all need to see, just give a yell on the radio." The S.T.A.R.S team all nodded their agreement, and David and Nick, being veterans, saluted Dan. The four S.T.A.R.S split, with David and Nick proceeding at a brisk jog toward the West, and Josh and Dan heading off at a faster pace to the East. None of the four knew exactly how long the night was going to be. But Josh was completely certain of one thing. However this ended, it wasn't going to be pretty at all. 


	5. Surprise Attack

David and Nick headed Westward at a full-on sprint. Both S.T.A.R.S. members were getting fairly tired, but their training gave them an edge on exhaustion. The two operatives slowed to a halt once they reached the barrier presented by a large, very high, chain-link fence. The metalwork was topped with a spiraled length of barbed wire, to "discourage" anybody from attempting to climb over it, from inside or out. Beyond that, they could see a large, nondescript looking building. David found it vaguely familiar, but he couldn't seem to place it. Ever since the car crash, he'd been a little disoriented with direction. He wasn't even sure where they were, as he'd been half-asleep when the rocket struck.  
  
"Well, how are we supposed to get in there?" David let out a quick sigh after voicing his question, staring up at the fence.  
  
Nick tilted his head some, and rested a hand on his chin, as he always did while thinking. "Hm. I see two ways. First, we could use my handy grenade launcher here to blow open a hole... second, we could find something to help us climb over."  
  
"I don't know man... I don't think I like the idea of you wasting a grenade. Especially if that big tall motherfucker is coming back. And I don't exactly think we'll find a stack of boxes just arrayed at perfect intervals for us to climb up."  
  
"Well, then what do you suggest we do, King David?"  
  
"Hm. I say we should call up Josh and Dan, then meet them at the overpass. I bet the four of us can figure something out."  
  
"Man... that is the stupidest damn plan I've ever heard. We can just get in now! Why bother with them?"  
  
"Listen. We should probably do the SMARTER thing, and see if we can figure something out that doesn't rely on you blowing the piss out of something."  
  
"Fine, fine. Call up the Captain..."  
  
David rolled his eyes at Nick's comment, and unhooked his radio from its place on his vest. "Dan, Josh, you copy? David here, over."  
  
Dan's voice came back in reply, slightly obscured by static. "Dan here. I copy, over."  
  
"Hey. We found something we think we can use as shelter. It's pretty big, but there aren't many places you can get into it. Plus, it's got a huge fence all around it. Actually, that's the problem. We can't get in. So, I figure we can all get together at the overpass, Nick and I can lead you back here, and we'll figure something out. What do you think? Over."  
  
"Alright. Sounds good. Josh and I can't find anything anyway. We'll meet you at the overpass. Over and out."  
  
"Over and out," David shut off the radio and clipped it back to his shoulder. "Alright Nick. Let's get going. They said they'll meet us there." David blinked. Nick was standing where he had been this entire time, staring off at something behind the fence. "Um. Nick. You alright?"  
  
"Yeah... yeah. I'm okay. I just thought I saw... well, never mind. Let's get going." The two S.T.A.R.S. team operatives walked turned and started walking back to the overpass. David watched Nick the entire way.  
  
Dan let his hand drop from the earpiece on his headset, breaking the transmission. "Hey, Josh."  
  
The S.T.A.R.S. marksman and pilot looked up from the ground, where he'd been examining something. Josh had, after all, been in the Air Force prior to joining S.T.A.R.S., and had been trained, if shot down, to track enemy soldiers, as part of his E&E (Escape & Evade) training. "What, Dan?"  
  
"Any luck with that?"  
  
"No. Can't tell what it was. Not human, but that doesn't mean much. Could be a deer, could be a dinosaur. Can't tell." The pair had been walking through a small, residential neighborhood that was situated just next to the highway, when Josh had noticed the tracks. They sat in somebody's yard, and seemed to trail off into the long row of hedges lining the street.  
  
"Oh well. If it's a survivor, they'll just have to wait."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"David just radioed in. Says him and Nick found some sort of shelter, but they need our amazing brain powers to get in. We're supposed to rendezvous with them at the overpass."  
  
"Sweet. I could use a rest. My legs are killing me. Let's get going." Dan nodded, and both of them headed back towards the way they came. They didn't get far, however, before Josh stopped cold. "Hey, Dan. Wait up a second."  
  
"Why? What's wrong?"  
  
"Just don't... move." Josh slowly dropped his hand down to the holster at his hip, gripping the holster of his Glock. The row of hedges next to him rustled, and as soon as Josh's handgun was out of the holster, a large, black thing, leapt out of the bushes. Before any of them could react, the creature's claws had slashed clean through Dan's radio. The radio dropped to the ground, sparking slightly, gouged from the beast's attack. Now, the S.T.A.R.S. could see it better. It stood about four feet in height, and was covered in greenish-black scales. Its hands had long fingers, and ended in sharp, three-inch long claws, which dragged near the ground due to its abnormally long arms. A row of sharp, white teeth grinned from the thing's mouth, and its eyes were tinted an ominous red.  
  
"What the FUCK is this thing?" Dan's gun was already up as he spoke, and he was in the process of drawing a bead on the creature's skull. Before Josh had the chance to answer, the creature had turned towards Dan, opening its grinning, drooling mouth. Dan wasted no time in pulling the trigger. The Desert Eagle cracked loudly in the night, and Dan was positive that he'd just dispatched a threat. However, he was more than slightly mistaken. In what seemed to be the blink of an eye, the reptilian animal was high in midair, and the bullet was striking the sidewalk where it had stood a moment before. The leaping creature's arm was thrown out wide, and the claws drove straight through the air, slashing directly towards Dan's throat. 


	6. Pleasant Meetings, Unpleasant Situation

Dan jumped backwards, and felt the wind generated by the beast's claw brush against his neck.  
  
"Shit!" That was the only thing the S.T.A.R.S. leader could think to say, as he pulled his Desert Eagle from his holster. The creature let out a low, gurgling growl in its throat as it prepared to jump forward again. Before it could however, Josh had found his mark with his Glock. Seven rounds drilled their way into the monster's back. As each hit however, they sank in no more than a few centimeters, causing the beast no small amount of pain, but certainly not doing much to stop it either. With its attention piqued, the creature turned slowly towards Josh.  
  
"Dan. help!" The junior S.T.A.R.S. member stumbled backwards slowly, as the beast leapt up once more, its long, clawed arm held out in preparation for the kill. The monster, however, had forgotten about Dan. A loud, booming crack filled the air, and the right leg of the airborne animal was engulfed in a spray of red. Distracted by the sudden pain, and screeching a high-pitched cry of rage, the animal fell down onto Josh, knocking him to the ground. Both participants in the struggle were completely surprised by the fall, but the creature reacted first. Bringing a clawed hand up to the sky, it prepared to swing it down into Josh's face. The S.T.A.R.S. member wasn't going out that easily however. With his free hand, he grabbed beast's fast-descending wrist, halting it a few inches above his face. Monster and Human glared eye to eye for a moment. The creature growled. Josh merely offered a cocky smirk. Just then, his Glock shot forward, and the barrel slammed itself directly into the monster's eye. The inhuman creature howled in pain, before it was silenced by a bullet driving straight through that eye, and into whatever brain it had.  
  
The creature, Josh realized as it fell down onto him, was incredibly heavy for doing all that jumping. Dan quickly helped to shove the thing off. "What the fuck was that thing?" Dan asked, nudging it with one boot.  
  
"They look a little like something Chris described. A. Hunter. That's the name he used. He hated the things." Josh brushed some of the blood from his vest with one of his hands, which, he thought to himself, was thankfully gloved. Christ, what a mess.  
  
"Well. Now that we're done with that pleasant little distraction, I think we should get back to the overpass. You ready?"  
  
"Not quite. Just one little thing." Josh took a few steps back before, with a running start, he kicked the Hunter's ribs hard, feeling at least one give way. "Bastard! There. Now I'm done. Let's go!"  
  
It was about an hour later when all four S.T.A.R.S. made their way back to the compound. It was another twenty before Dan was the one to finally figure out what it was. As things turned out, it was a prison. Nobody seemed altogether too happy with the knowledge, but, as there was absolutely no other shelter, nobody offered a complaint to going in. After a little combat knife-related persuasion, a section of the fence finally fell. The S.T.A.R.S. team made their way cautiously inside, each man covering the others. Nobody wanted to take any chances, especially after Dan and Josh's account of their encounter with the Hunter. Josh was appointed as the point man, largely, he thought, due to his junior status, as they neared a door to the main building. From the looks of things outside, they could tell that the prison had been out of service for quite some time, so nobody really expected to see anybody living. However, that was hardly a comforting thought.  
  
Josh expertly kicked open the door, not much in the mood to bother with a lock, and stepped into a dark hallway, filled with cells on either side. However, they were far from alone. A loud, hungry moan echoed out from the left of the door, out of view of the other S.T.A.R.S. members. Josh, however, saw all to well, and all too late. Without more warning, a zombie lurched forward, and planted its rotting, stinking arms on Josh's shoulders, drawing its face forward, attempting to bite into the S.T.A.R.S. marksman. Before any of the others could even react, however, a girl stepped out from the shadows as well. The butt of a shotgun was swung upwards, and hit the zombie's chin, forcing the undead creature back. In a flash, the shotgun was pressed back against her shoulder, and firing. The ghoul's head erupted into seemingly a million pieces, which splattered against one of the cell doors. In a quick movement, the girl turned, and the shotgun was pointed towards the S.T.A.R.S. group.  
  
"Damn zombie," the girl said, and shoved a loose strand of hair out of her face with her free hand. She kept the shotgun aimed towards them. "So from an asshole, I go to four dingleberries. Who the hell are you?" Her light brown, shoulder-length curly hair was clipped at the back of her head with a battered claw, and her brown eyes glared suspiciously from behind a pair of glasses. She wore a faded jean jacket with the sleeves rolled past her elbows over a gray T-shirt, which was spattered with dirt and God-knows- what-else. Her pants were fatigues, and they were stained with blood. Judging by the way she moved and stood, however, the blood was not hers. Combat boots completed her apparel, and of course, the shotgun leveled directly at the group.  
  
None of the S.T.A.R.S. thought to say a word. They were all simply too shocked, both at finding a survivor in a prison, of all places, and at the fact that she was so well armed. David, being somewhat of a gun buff, placed the shotgun as some sort of Remington, though of what sort he couldn't tell with all the darkness. Finally, Dan spoke up.  
  
"Missouri Special Tactics And Rescue Squad, S.T.A.R.S. We're cops. Who the fuck are YOU?" The team leader, though of course glad to find a living person, was altogether too suspicious at the same time. It's not just everybody after all who has what looked like a Hunter claw holding their hair back.  
  
"Hm. Isn't that the flashy title?" The girl responded, nearly rolling her eyes, if not for wanting to keep the S.T.A.R.S. members in sight. "Me? I just live around here. Some suburbs not too far away. I ran off when all hell broke loose, and found myself here. Which reminds me. What the hell are FOUR cops doing here? Shouldn't you have backup for this sort of thing?"  
  
David was the first to speak up. "Well, you see ma'am, we've sort of been caught off gua-"  
  
David's sentence was broken off by Nick, who held a hand up to silence him. "What my good friend David here means is, our backup's been cut off, but we'll have some soon." David pulled Nick aside, and whispered to him.  
  
"What the hell are you doing, man?" The demolitions expert rolled his eyes, as though the answer should be blindingly obvious.  
  
"Simple, David. We want her to think we've got it all under control right? I mean, comforting and all. So, we let her think that backup's on the way, and she doesn't get depressed."  
  
David blinked, unsure if Nick really believed what he said. "Um. She's got a ten-gauge shotgun there, sparky. She's looking mighty upbeat to me."  
  
"Hey. Dorkasses. I can hear you talking." The girl tapped her foot impatiently.  
  
"Er," Nick blinked, "I knew that." The girl motioned with her gun for the two to rejoin the group of S.T.A.R.S. officers.  
  
"Now. One of you explain what's really going on?" There was a definite harsh edge to the girl's voice. As Josh reflected, it probably came from living through for god-knows-how-long in this place. Hell. There were probably family members, friends, who'd turned into zombies. Taking this into account, he decided then and there to regard her as an equal. Experience, after all, is better than training. And the S.T.A.R.S. weren't even trained for THIS. As such, he decided he'd tell her what they knew.  
  
"Well. if I'm going to tell you," He said, holding his hands up as a gesture of goodwill, "I'd like to have a name."  
  
"Fine," the girl threw in an eye-roll for good measure, "Kelsey. You need more than that, ask me later, once we get out of here. Yours?"  
  
"Josh," The S.T.A.R.S. marksman gave a small grin, despite the condition, "And hey. That's OFFICER dingleberry."  
  
"Keep it in your pants, Pig."  
  
"What? No, I didn't mean-"  
  
"Okay, okay, that's enough," Dan said, wisely deciding to step in, "Alright. Since we've got this shelter, we should use this time to figure out a plan. Any ideas?" 


End file.
